


Prayer

by Judayre



Series: Jewish Hardison [1]
Category: Leverage
Genre: Gen, Jews - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 14:17:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7687720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Judayre/pseuds/Judayre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hardison's first time going to a Jewish service.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prayer

Hardison’s first Jewish service.

Ziskeyt, by the way, is Yiddish and means sweetness. It’s one of the things my grandma used to call me.

Alec was nine and in a new foster home, a combination that would keep anyone on edge. It had been great, but he hadn’t even been there a week, and there was always time for things to go bad. When he woke early on a Saturday to sounds from the kitchen, he padded out to see what was going on.

Nana was drinking coffee and reading the paper, dressed up like she was going to a party. She smiled at him when he peeked in.

“Forgive me, ziskeyt. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Where you goin’?” Alec asked.

“Services.”

That made him take a step into the room. “Church is on Sunday.”

“It is, and I’ll make sure you get to yours,” Nana said, still smiling at him. “But my services are on Saturday.”

“Can I go with you?” He wanted to know what his new foster mother was doing, to know how to be good. He always tried to be good, but so far he’d always been told he was bad at it.

“If you want. Run and get dressed.”

He did as he was told. His suit was hung up in the closet, ready for church tomorrow. He noticed it was starting to get short in the sleeves, but it still fit. He sat quietly in Nana’s car, not asking all the questions he was bursting with. Asking questions was very rarely good.

They arrived at a squat little building with a star on the front, and that was the first Alec realized that Nana was Jewish. He’d never been to a Jewish church, and said so.

Nana laughed again - a nice laugh, not a making fun one - and took his hand to lead him inside. She repeated the word ‘synagogue’ over and over for him until he could pronounce it right. Most of the people inside were white, but none of them seemed to think it was strange that a little black boy was there with them. They said hello, handed him a yarmulke (and that tongue twister of a word took him several tries to get right), and made space so he and Nana could slip into seats next to each other.

The service was strange. A lot of it was in Hebrew, and Nana pointed out every prayer in the book, encouraging him to read the English since he couldn’t follow the Hebrew. And he did, listening to the congregation chanting around him, a sound like nothing he’d ever heard before. And when they read in English, he joined them.

He sat and stood and bowed when everyone else did. When Nana put down the prayer book, he thought it must be over. But then they took the Torah out of the ark. Nana explained it in whispers to him - all of the Jewish holy text - the start of the Bible - handwritten on parchment, decorated and venerated. They sang and carried it around the congregation. Nana pressed his hand to the soft cover on the Torah, kissing his fingers and explaining that now he shared some of its holiness.

They read out of it and talked about it. Explained what it was about and what it meant. And right in the middle, the preacher - rabbi - smiled right down at Alec and talked about their duty to teach and protect children. He felt his own eyes turn to saucers and he felt Nana squeeze his shoulder. And then they stood and finished the service.

Afterward there was food, and Nana introduced him to her friends and their children. He was shy of them, sticking close to Nana’s side, but she didn’t shoo him away like his last foster mother would have. She made sure he was included in her conversations, made sure he had plenty of food, and then decided it was time to go home, because a boy should have time to play.

The ride home was quiet as well, Alec’s eyes and ears dazzled by the new sights and sounds of the Jewish service. Nana let him be quiet, glancing at him periodically and smiling.

“Nana,” he said when they parked. “Can I go again with you next week?”

“Of course you can!” she answered.

“And– and you don’t have to take me to church tomorrow,” he added. “I been to services today.”


End file.
